Polaris
by nicelynicelyjohnson
Summary: One shot. Paulina muses upon Camillo's return.


_**AN:** Because honestly? The random sudden pairing off of Paulina and Camillo never really sat well with me._

* * *

In her heart of hearts, in her deepest, darkest plans, she had never truly expected Camillo to return. She wondered afterwards if this was another mark on her character, to doubt or forget the lord that had fled from their company in the dead of night to a new master. She felt disorientated, like she had another life to catch up on, the one Camillo had led that she had spared no thought for and confused, for it was greatly implied in the court that he had thought of her, and often.

But grief has that effect or erasing and isolating and the twin griefs of Paulina and Leontes, for Antigonus and Hermione respectively, had drowned out the lesser pain of losing a friend without as much as a farewell.

When Camillo had returned from Bohemia, when he had walked, somewhat sheepishly considering his various actions, back into Leontes' court, Paulina could not help but think 'But how old he looks now!' Then she had realised Camillo had simply aged. They had, all of them, simply aged. The creases that collected in the corners of his eyes and the dusting of grey at his temples was echoed on every man his age in Sicillia. She felt a little embarrassed that this was her first thought - not relief of her dear friend having returned, not gladness to see the change in the king, but the shallowness of a younger woman musing upon an old man.

* * *

After that initial musing, the return of Camillo had been overshadowed considerably by what came next. Leontes, reunited with his near brother, seemed to magically reverse in age, returning as much to life as his queen did. Polixenes, laughing with joy and tears in his eyes, begging and offering forgiveness in turns to all assembled. The two shepherds, previously poor fellows, struck dumb in wonder as they were provided with rich clothes and money beyond their wildest dreams, great compensation they never could have imagined upon picking up an abandoned babe sixteen years before. And Perdita, dear, sweet Perdita, who looked so much like her mother, and who had clung tightly to the hand of her fiancée, Polixenes own son. The handsome lad who looked at Perdita like she was some goddess in mortal form.

Camillo had never been renownedly handsome, but nobody could have ever called him ugly. He had a kind heart - he was loyal and true and witty, that was what made him attractive, and Paulina knew that Camillo, if he'd so wished, could have had his pick of any young lady of the court. He had not been short of admirers.

It was his qualities of character that made him worthy of high regard. If Polixenes was the sun and Leontes the moon, then Camillo was the North Star. Steady and constant until the end of time.

* * *

The old shepherd and she had stood aside a while as he told her how her Antigonus had met his end. His language had been simple, but sincere, the matter of his retelling as much as she could have prayed for. Buried. Respected. A decent end. The story had moved her to tears, but she grateful that the tale of Antigonus' life now had an end of sorts. It was a closed book, no longer left half-writ, left open and marked at a page. Yet it finally extinguished that ember of hope. Now Antigonus was gone.

* * *

It seemed hardly possible that life should return to any state of normality after such miracles had taken place. But somehow, as life has its way, it did. Perdita and Florizel were finally married, in a celebration that lasted several days until even the hardiest drinkers were forced to retire. The newlyweds and Polixenes lingered in Sicilia as Polixenes had down for so many months in his younger days. Families reunited have no desire to be divided once more so quickly and when the prince and princess did return to his homeland, it was under oaths and promises to return frequently, a pledge they would fulfil many times over.

Camillo however, chose not to go back to his adopted court. Glad to be home, he returned to his duties under Leontes, who trusted and admired the lord more than ever. This ensured that Camillo once more became a part of their lives.

And when he walked into a room, Paulina's heart did not skip in her chest, her breath did not catch in her throat like it had whenever her Antigonus had passed. Instead if she ever caught a glimpse of Camillo, she felt reassured. She felt secure. After years of secrets and fear, she felt safe again. Just like she always had.

He did not question why she was still in mourning. He did not urge her, like others urged her, to forget her Antigonus (because in her mind she still and forever will refer to him as HER Antigonus) and marry again. When they met in the halls, it was like he never left for those accursed sixteen years. He bowed his head, he greeted her respectfully and in him she could still see the young man who had laughed with her husband, sworn loyalty to the king and teased her in good humour on countless idle afternoons. The young man that she half-expected to follow Polixenes back into their lives. Her north star.

Whose worth and honesty was richly noted.


End file.
